


sunny, with a chance of insolence

by light_rises



Category: Deltarune (Video Game)
Genre: Bad And Naughty Dads Get Put In The Dad Wiggler To Atone For Their Crimes, Chapter 2 references, Character Study, Child Abuse, Dysfunctional Family, Friendship, Gen, Lancer POV, Mid-Canon, Parent-Child Relationship, Post-Canon (for Chapter 1), Pre-Canon, Rebellion, Verbal Abuse, Worldbuilding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-24
Updated: 2020-09-24
Packaged: 2021-03-07 19:13:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,977
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26622724
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/light_rises/pseuds/light_rises
Summary: "Lancer, I wouldn't regale you with ancient calamities if there was no greater purpose to it—yes, yes,please," he hissed, to the Rudinn now, as he dropped the scroll into waiting limbs, "you know where this garbage belongs. Quickly." Your dad cleared his throats, in hoarse guttural stereo, and then his attention was back on you as the underling made like a tree out of your room. "Right. To that end, let's take a moment to review the basics." He leaned forward in the chair he'd drawn up to the side of your bed, hands clasped, elbows alighting on his thighs. "Son, blood of my blood, what is the tragedy of this tale?""Whoof. Big question."--One night before the Lightners' arrival, the King of Spades runs his son through the paces of what needs doing. Lancer, in time, comes to his own conclusions.
Relationships: King of Spades & Lancer (Deltarune), Kris & Lancer & Ralsei & Susie (Deltarune), Lancer & Ralsei (Deltarune)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 27





	sunny, with a chance of insolence

**Author's Note:**

> this fic can be read on its own but it's Also a companion to [the kids are (not) alright](https://archiveofourown.org/series/1326626), so there's references aplenty to those fics! [they shift in the light](https://archiveofourown.org/works/25153825) is especially relevant here imo

"'... _It was thus that the final lurid vestiges of the old kingdom well and truly died, and AN ILL-PORTENDED PRINCE FROM THE DARK was born._ '" Your dad shuddered with full-body theatricality as he refurled the scroll he was reading off of. "Bah. Scrubbed of its worst profanities and it _still_ reeks of propaganda. Disgusting. Vile."

"Umm. Father, no offense and all, but if it's so bad why d'you keep reading it to me???"

You felt kind of bad for complaining, and not just because your dad might, in fact, take offense anyway: his drilling this super-secret legend into you over and over again was the closest you'd come lately to getting a King Dad administered bedtime story. You were even _in_ bed and everything this time, sixty-percent ready for a good snooze! The only thing left was getting tucked in (your dad... pretty much definitely wouldn't bother—he hadn't in ages—but hey, you lived in hope). "Alllllso, it's. Kind of a huge bummer, when you think about it," you added, since apparently you were feeling extra brave that night.

"Ah, but that's exactly the point, my son," your dad intoned. "Perhaps... the only point that matters, even... humph." He shifted the scroll to his left hand and held it far, far out to his side, like the thing stunk to high heaven. This was all the signal Rudinn needed to scurry into view, from their perch in the deepest shadows of your room. "Lancer, I wouldn't regale you with ancient calamities if there was no greater purpose to it—yes, yes, _please_ ," he hissed, to the Rudinn now, as he dropped the scroll into waiting limbs, "you know where this garbage belongs. Quickly." Your dad cleared his throats, in hoarse guttural stereo, and then his attention was back on you as the underling made like a tree out of your room. "Right. To that end, let's take a moment to review the basics." He leaned forward in the chair he'd drawn up to the side of your bed, hands clasped, elbows alighting on his thighs. "Son, blood of my blood, what is the tragedy of this tale?"

" _Whoof_. Big question." Your face screwed up something fierce as you Did A Think. "Ummmmm. Hrm. I dunno, like... the 'sad stuff' tally's kinda huge here... OHH wait! Hold on! The Prince getting wheeled by one of his subjects!! Like, _jeez_ , he was just tryin' to get everybody to be cool and stop doing a violence all over the place THEN _BOOM_ , ax to the face! _Brutal_. Mostly sad, though... he was around my age... " ("Barely older, by most accounts," your dad said gravely). "And!! Also!!! His best friend had to watch all that! The Page saw him _die_. They were all each other had in a kingdom gone cuckoo-bananas, and then—poof. Finito. They never saw each other again." You pressed your lips into a hard line then, starting to pick at the stretch of duvet covering your lap. "Actually... okay, no, the worst _worst_ part?? That's GOTTA be the Fountain doing a miracle to bring the Prince back—which, okay don't get me wrong that part's GREAT AND COOL for obvious reasons— _but then_!!! It does that! Only!!!! To make him live all by himse—"

" _ **Lancer**_."

You flinched, from toe to tip. When you tried to meet your dad's gaze a second or so later, the shadows upon shadows of your room sat in reproachful curves across his face.

" _The big. Picture. Son_ ," he enunciated, like you were much smaller and only a couple notches off from being in the biggest trouble ever. "You're getting lost in the weeds. Again."

"Sorry," you mumbled. Man. You were _so_ hoping he'd humor you this go-around, if only cuz—not even a minute ago he'd made a comment like you were answering okay after all, hadn't he? And it's not like you were _wrong_ about all those other sad things. You weren't!! That still wouldn't fly though, you guessed.

Your dad—the King, Head Honcho of this slice of Dark World real estate—he took a low, stern breath. "Let's try this again," he said. "Remember. Big picture: what is the _real_ tragedy of this tale?"

You sighed. Fiiiine. "The Page—"

" _Destroyer_ ," your dad corrected.

"The—the Destroyer was a Lightner who slaughtered everyone in the Kingdom of Darkness, after he poofed its Queen into nothing and got everyone fighting." The words poured out of you all pathetic and dour, from sheer rote.

" _Because_... ?"

"Because he wanted to take over the Dark World. He wiped out a kingdom to prove his power to everyone." You added, more quietly, "He only made friends with the Prince to make things easier." _Even if they DID get to be real friends later_ , you thought, and _only_ thought, to be safe.

For a sliver of a moment, your dad smiled. "That's more like it." Then: "And pray, what does this tell us about the true depth of Lightner treachery?"

Another sigh, longer and deeper. "Not only did they leave us Darkners behind," you said, "any chance they get they'll take everything we have, too."

His grin (crooked, utterly wolfish) stuck around this time. " _Atta boy._ "

You got maybe two seconds to preen in the compliment before your dad stood up, with a practiced flourish, kicking back his chair with one foot. He took to pacing, neatly avoiding all your cubby-holes like he knew the crannies of your room as well as you did. "We should count our blessings," he said, after a moment, "that the old kingdom's Fountain saw fit to banish the Destroyer for his crimes. Good riddance to bad rubbish, as the saying goes. That however doesn't account for its... _other_ lapses in judgement." His pacing began to slow. "It's occurred to me we haven't discussed this particular in much detail—until now, that is. As another saying puts it: _buckle up, buttercup._ "

You tilted your head with a grimace. "But... what did the Fountain—" It hit you then, very nearly like a ton of bricks. "Wait, _the Prince_??? He was murdered though! Getting brought back after that is a GOOD thing, isn't it?"

Your dad stopped in his tracks. This left him standing at the foot of your bed like an inky bulkhead, his back halfway turned to you. "Lancer," he said, "a dead kingdom with no subjects should not get to have its own prince." His head swiveled your way again, and the look he gave you was stark and awfully, _awfully_ vicious. "Especially when all he's going to do is grovel at the feet of his precious legendary Lightners."

"... _Ooooooooh_. Right." Also, _yeowch_. You guessed the real bummer of this story was the fated mortal enemies who got resurrected along the way????

You were about to say as much when your dad plowed onward, apparently buoyed by acting all grim and no-nonsense: "The Old Fountain is... not so much possessed by what stands against us as it is compelled, in the crudest possible terms, by the dictates of destiny. This has— _complicated_ our task. Hardly a no-win for us, though." His posture straightened, hands folding into each other against the small of his back. " _Our_ Fountain—our glorious, sacred breach into the world of Light—it has sprung to life, my son. The time of prophecy draws nigh, and our lonely, hated prince of the Delta Rune... he is on the move."

Okay, honestly this spiel was WAY harder to keep up with than the other one, but the very end of it smacked you all wrongways with implication. " _Whoa_ ," you said, "whoa. Whoa-y WHOA, Father, you're saying the Prince _left his kingdom_??? That can't be right! He's not supposed to leave his post, the Fountain won't let him!"

Your dad hissed a horrible, awful, no good, very bad withering sigh. " _'He would also live alone,'_ " he recited, slowly, through his teeth, " _'as his true self, sealed off from any invasive forces **so long as the Great Door remained shut**.'_ Implying"—now he glared directly at you—"that it could be opened. At. Any. Time. Lancer, for once in your life _please_ try to pay attention."

You shrunk into yourself instead of answering. You guessed that was the desired effect since your dad kept monologuing, barely a second later.

"I've received reports of a cloaked figure passing through the Great Door," he said. "Rare sightings, but consistent. Said figure has been doing this for—well." He coughed. "I was only capable of posting lookout to that quarter as of five months ago. Regardless. _He_ —for who else would it be?—it's clear that the prince has chosen to emerge from his cursèd burrow, vigil or no vigil. It's likely he's been up to that for far longer than the months he's been observed. A pity, that. We'll never know how much reconnaissance he's had opportunity to run."

You more or less had the jist of what "reconnaissance" meant down pat; you seized on that as a chance to earn back some points. "Well... we could maybeeee, I dunnooo, do an ambush and thrash every juicy bit of intel out of him?? That way we could find out!" See, you even said "intel" like a good smart kid!! And then tried to demonstrate said thrashing with your fists!!!

Your dad... didn't get mad at you again. He did something kind of worse: he chuckled, _at_ you, like you were being completely ridiculous. "Lancer, my son," he said, almost kindly ( _almost_ ), "I'm afraid it's far too late in the game for such niceties."

"Oh." You tried not to deflate too much, at least visibly. "Then... i-if the Prince is getting ready n' stuff," you said, "and the Lightners are pretty much on their way here... what're we supposed to do?"

Your dad's grin returned for a bracing encore. He turned heel to approach you again, opting to loom over one side of your bed instead of grabbing his chair for a sit-down. "Son," he said, in a different tone altogether, "do you know what else draws nigh?"

You shook your head. "What?"

His hands lowered, lowered, found purchase on your shoulders. " _Your time to shine_ ," he answered.

You felt warm, and so very—so _full_ , to your core, for the first time in who knew how long.

"Tomorrow," your dad said, giving your shoulders a squeeze, "we make our move. You'll set out to the Kingdom of Darkness. Get yourself through that Door, Lancer, one way or another. I don't care how. Rest assured that members of my guard will be on standby and one step behind you, if need be. Get in. Dispatch the prince. Intercept his beloved Lightners. If they have yet to arrive... well, you'll have a nice old castle to yourself for a spell, won't you? Make it a holiday. My treat." His grin broadened, rather impossibly. He was talented like that. "Rumor has it the grounds over there have been... renovated, in recent years."

"OH!!! Ohhhhh!!" You bounced under his grip. "I can take my bike, right?? Can I??? CanIcanIcanIcanI _pleeeeeease_??????"

He laughed again, and this time it felt—there was nothing mocking about it now, you were pretty sure. "Be my guest, pumpkin," he said, indulgent as all get-out, and you _one-thousand percent_ would've launched into a hug right then and there after whisper-shouting "YESSSSSS" if he didn't add, " _Just remember_ ," tone flipped to low and foreboding on a dime. Oof. There went your bouncing. "When you engage the enemy," he continued, "chances are they will try very, very hard to convince you they're anything but that. Don't be swayed by their sentimentality. Do not sympathize; do not get too attached. Be ruthless at every. Given. Opportunity. For while we may be heroes to our people, to _them_ —"

" _We're the bad guys_ ," you finished, with hushed relish. Funny how easy that was, now that you knew he was being serious for a reason that had nothing to do with scolding you! Whew.

Your dad practically glowed as he said, "Indeed we are." Then he started to straighten and pull away, but you—you took a leap of faith and just... held up your hands, palms-out. For old time's sake.

His tongue lolled cheekily as he made sure to not leave you hanging. For a whole entire moment, all was right in your world again.

He turned to leave your room, with what seemed like the finality of a "goodnight", and then he paused to prop a hand on the door jamb. He lingered there for a good few seconds.

"There is," your dad said, without looking back at you, "one more thing. Son, do you remember what the Destroyer looks like? From when I showed you those illuminated manuscripts."

" _Pssh_ , how could I forget?" The Destroyer had been a monster, one of those weird really special ones who were stronger than the rest, at least Topside. Plus his face was the kind that sorta—stuck with you, y'know?

Your dad nodded. "A word of warning, then, as well as a command... Lancer, if any of those legendary heroes come bearing the guise of the Destroyer? _Kill them on sight_. Don't waste time toying with them, as you might the others. My life and the Dark Realm itself may very well depend on it."

"Oh... kaaaay." You swallowed, not bothering to disguise your frown. "But, why? What difference is that gonna make? S'not like the Destroyer can come back, right?"

Your dad inhaled in the silence, the noise long and raspy. "Let's just say," he replied, eventually, "the Knight thinks it best practice to rid ourselves of any loose ends."

He left it at that, and left your room for good measure. All you could do was slide under the covers to stew in vaguely alarmed bafflement, for however long you would have to wait until sleep claimed you.

(By contrast, it only took you a minute to realize your dad hadn't said "goodnight" or tucked you in after all.)

—

Right, so. The next day was a total bust.

Not for a lack of trying!!! Mostly! The whole shebang even started off swimmingly: you reached the Kingdom of Darkness in RECORD BIKE-TIME thank you very much and _then_ , wonder of wonders, found that His Royal Dorkiness _had left the ding-dang Door ajar_. All ripe for the infiltrating!!! It was so beautimously careless, you could cry. In fact you did a little, and then got your butt _down to business_ because Being Bad is _the serious kind_. Of business, that is.

You scooted through the Door, rammed your bike into the prattling niceboy monarch _of flippin' NOBODY_ , feeling on top of the world, ready to thrash the absolute HECK outta these Lightner clownlings of his—and _then_ —then!!!! Then.

Then, in a sort of slow-mo that stretched for hours, it all went sideways.

By your dad's standards, at least. For most of the day that was the only thing that could possibly matter, ever, because... well, why wouldn't it? You even had a Dad in your head doing a sort of running commentary as you leapfrogged from hijink-to-hijink, because _why wouldn't you_? Real Dad was counting on you!! Screwing up when the rubber met the road wasn't going to be an option, no siree bob on that.

When things still seemed to be on-track, Head Dad reminded you to give each of these clownshoes ~Heroes~ a once-over as you laid eyes on 'em, to scan for Destroyer features. So!! You did, as follows:

  * One (1) human. Named... uhhh _something_???? This party's Leader™. Very poker-faced, very blue. The color, you meant. Looked in no way, shape or form like the Destroyer on account of, y'know, being human??? Lucky them.

  * One (1) monster! Named "Susie". Very rude, SUPER crude, _super_ purple. Destroyer-types didn't come in purple last time you checked, though you could already tell she carried the swagger of a little-d destroyer at the minimum. One to watch!

  * Aaaand one (1) Darkner prince!! Last of the Dreaming Dark, a.k.a. the Imaginary Folk; once dead, now not. Named "Ralsei". Black fur, wee horns, doofy enchanted wizard's hat and scarf. Not much else to say here!!!!




... Oooor so you thought, before you got a better look at Ralsei without even trying that hard and then _WHOA THERE, hold the phone_ : you recognized this guy!! From, like, seeing him roam Card Kingdom's outskirts! You'd glimpse him from a distance once in a blue moon and think to yourself, with peak observation, _Oh, it's that guy again!_ and that would be that.

Wow. If you'd known this shabby-robed goody-goody was _a prince_ (THAT prince) you would've told your dad waaay sooner than his lackeys managed to. This... _was_ an annoying development if you were objective about it and all, but like, also?? _Max. Hilarious._ In your very humble onion.

Head Dad, as it turned out, wasn't so tickled.

That was a running theme, really. Every step closer the Heroes got to Card Castle stoked another mental jab at something you'd done wrong. _Lancer, why didn't you plan those traps better? Why are you taking a break to gloat? You're selling_ food _to the enemy?? It's not poisoned??? For pity's sake STOP with the goofs and FIGHT them again, **this isn't a game**._

Meanwhile the Heroes were coming into focus as, like, _actual people_ the more you beleaguered them, and to Head Dad's reckoning they doomed you all the more for it. There was the human, stoic still and never any less blue, who was making it clear how committed they were to dipping out of battle without hurting anyone; then Susie, who just—she—jeez. She got to be, _so_ , enormously _extremely_ friend-shaped? Cuz when push came to shove she wanted the same thing as you ( _hey, wanna get treated like you can do something RIGHT for once?? join the club!_ ) and in the long run _that_ made her think twice about lashing out as a first resort to everything. She was your first true-blue pal, by her own choice, in what felt like forever. That was MVP material right there. And Ralsei...

See, this one was complicated!! Kinda. Ralsei had talked SOOO much along the way and had SOOO many opinions that his commentary sorta—it, like. Ran counterpoint to your Head Dad's, in a way? On the one hand it could be a teeeensy bit "jeezy creezy lemondrop CHILL it's not like you're my teacher or big bro or anything"??? On the other hand, a lot of what he was doing boiled down to the simple art of... well, making conversation. Like you weren't really an enemy, despite all your nuisance-making, and like he was genuinely interested in what you were up to because that's a thing people who care about other people _do_. Maybe somebody else would've considered this kind of thing suspicious or patronizing, at least under the circumstances. You...

Okay, look. You would never claim to be the brightest crayon in the box, not by a longshot. But certain things had a way of striking out at you as they came along, because you could tell (you _knew_ ) they meant something important. Whether or not you could put it into words right then, if ever.

One such time, Ralsei asked if your dad seemed happy. Another such time, not long after that, he dropped to a knee before your dad when he thought it could save you from harm. He'd done it like it wasn't even a question, like it didn't matter that he was a weakling last-of-his-kinder who could die in one good hit and how _super duper obviously_ a trap this whole set-up was.

You would remember that. You would file it away when Susie ignored your pleas and stepped back to kneel alongside him. Her human friend, too.

It was funny, this close to the end of a very, very long conga line tallying all your screw-ups, how much more this stuff mattered compared to any version of your dad you'd had to deal with lately. In that moment—scared out of your wits save the one that knew what needed doing _right the heck then_ —you acted accordingly.

—

Past the end of said conga line, and now that you've climbed the requisite cuss tiers to say as much, you've got a little something-something to put out there for the record: your dad's thoughts on how everything panned out can _piss right off_.

—

"I won't lie," you hear Ralsei say, sounding overbright and forced, like he's losing a particularly high-strung battle to Stay Calm, "I'm more than a little curious about the _how_ , but"—aaand OUT you pop from the confines of Kris' hammerspace, thanks to him!—"if you'll excuse me for being kind of blunt here: _**why**_."

"He SAID he was tough enough to handle it!!!" Susie tells him, as you get up and do a wee dance to get the ol' circulation up and running again. "It's not like he didn't wanna _try_!"

"I didn't even think it'd work," Kris adds, in a mutter. Nowadays you have a good solid lock on both their name _and_ the fact they're rather blue in the other way, too. "Also, though. Science kinda demanded it?"

"... 'Science'," Ralsei says, too-even.

" _Science!!!_ " you confirm, then give him an itty-bitty cuff to the forearm. "C'monnnn, coffee bean, we were just explorin' our options! It'd be sad if I had to miss out on hanging with you guys just cuz the City is _super goofy_ and won't let me be a party member right now."

"So _that's_ —aw, Lancer... " Ralsei softens like clockwork, though not so much that his scarf would proceed to undo its stern knot across his chest. "Of course we can put our heads together to figure something out! It's just—for future reference, I would really, _really_ prefer it if we, you know... " He coughs pointedly. "Thought through the potential dangers first? As a _fully-assembled_ team."

Susie groans. "Look man, if it'll make you feel better me n' Kris _solemnly fucking swear_ to NOT do any more Dark World experiments on friends without waiting for your input. Okay???"

" _Yes_! Yes, thank you, I'd really appreciate that."

"Cross my heart," Kris says, with a nod. Followed by, "Probably," and then Susie elbows them in the ribs as they snerk. She's smiling too, though.

Ralsei's eyes go a-rolling, but the way he sighs and says, "I guess that's to be expected," makes it obvious he's not, like, _maximally_ annoyed, not by any means. He's looking pretty fond in fact, right before he turns to you with clasped paws. "You _are_ okay though, right Lancer?" he asks.

You look up, deciding to _really_ take him in again as you dust off your knees. Ralsei: this humble little applepie of a magician, who once hid a big-sized secret under one floppy hat and a nifty glamour; who now bares his true face to the whole of this world, for better or worse.

Like now, sometimes you'll think back on that first time Ralsei dropped his disguise while you were actually around to see it, and... well. Things were already different then and your dad was in the lock-up, so instead of doing what he or his lame ol' Knight would've wanted you thought, _Ohhh. So THAT'S the other part of his deal! Huh_. And that's where you shut the book on things.

Also, like—c'mon, the part where you get to look RIGHT in the face of a facsimile Destroyer and call him "friend"?? _Extremely_ metal, as Susie might put it. Why would you wanna mess with that?

"Never better!" you tell Ralsei, because it's the truth. And then you get a move on with things, alongside your friends, in a squad with no more lonely princes.


End file.
